


Pitching a Fit

by DarkMK



Series: The Pitch World-Hopping Series [2]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012), The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Humor, Pitch tries, and fails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 10:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12297189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkMK/pseuds/DarkMK
Summary: Pitch needed allies. So he somehow ended up having tea with Jack. No, not Jack Frost. Jack the Pumpkin King.





	Pitching a Fit

**Author's Note:**

> Transfer number two from ff.net! And in my opinion, the better of the two so far. I always felt that this particular setup had the potential to be a longer written character study, but unfortunately all I ever made of it was a little quirk of humor. Anyway, I had fun with it, and I hope you enjoy reading it!
> 
> (While this can be read in its own, I do recommend reading the first part of the series first. Events and circumstances are referenced that make much more sense if you know what they are.)

Pitch paced. Again. It felt like all he did lately was pace. Back and forth, back and forth. Sometimes he went forth and back, just for a little variety. Once he sat and stared at the wall, but that was too monotonous, even by his standards.

He was careful not to moan and sigh as he paced. He did  ** _not_** want a repeat of… _that_ incident. He shuddered. It had taken him forever to make his way back to his lair. (And he still wasn't even completely sure how he had managed it. He'd leave it filed under 'Noodle Incident: Not to Be Remembered') And that ice…he still found pieces of it stuck to his favorite robe.

The one highlight about the experience was that he was now able to come and go as he pleased, no longer trapped inside the lair's shadowy confines. Unfortunately, he didn't really have anywhere to go. Should he show even a hint of his presence around the Guardians, they were likely to seize him and ensure that he never had an opportunity to escape again.

If only he had allies. Or at least minions who could do his dirty work. He wondered where he could get some. They would have to be individuals who were completely unconnected with him so that the Guardians could have no basis for suspicion. But who?

Pitch paced some more.

Hours later, he threw up his hands. This was pointless!

He needed some fresh air.

Still too weak to teleport properly without a source of fear nearby, he elected to walk down one of his darker tunnels. He didn't particularly care where it led, so long as it led outside. And not to Burgess. Somewhere, anywhere else. Where maybe he could find a couple of innocent children to scare.

He pulled his lips back in a half snarl. Unlikely. After his last (he wouldn't call it defeat, he'd call it…setback), it was doubtful that he'd be able to achieve enough contact to get a proper scare in. That was the trouble of being  _invisible_  and all.

It was true that there would always be fear, but it would take  _forever_  for it to build to levels high enough that he could use it again! Pitch was tired of waiting! Was it too much to ask if he could rule the world  _now_? He'd been patient for over four hundred years, and planned everything to the nth degree, but, nope, all it took was one little Jack to mess it up!

Abruptly, the tunnel ended, dumping from beneath a mountain into a wide clearing. Pitch blinked. He'd been so lost in thought that he hadn't perceived how far he had come. Peering out cautiously, he checked the exterior surroundings with infinite care. The sky above was clear, with only a little starlight to shine on the ground below. There was no sign of anyone, but he was…somewhat startled to realize that he didn't recognize the clearing in front of him.

Surrounding the area was the forest of all the usual trees, but there was something different about several large ones that were on the very edge. These ones appeared to have been spray-painted or something with designs. He moved closer, keeping an eye out for any perpetrators who might still be around. Unfortunately, he could sense no sign of life. Pity. It would have been fun to play a ghost in the woods.

He finally drew near enough to make out the designs and curled his lip in disgust. Holiday symbols, all of them. Not only the major ones, like Christmas and Easter (ugh, he did  _not_ want to think about those), but also several minor ones, like St. Patrick's Day and Valentine's Day.

How he hated all of them! And…the pictures weren't even that good. (He didn't care if that sounded petty.)

Well, the pumpkin wasn't so bad. He ran a finger down the edge. Traditionally associated with Halloween, it was the one night of the year that people actually encouraged fear and scares. He'd never cared to attach himself to an individual holiday, unwilling to encourage further comparisons between himself and the Guardians. But if he ever had, Halloween would have been the one that he'd picked.

As he continued to rub the edge, there was a muffled click, and suddenly the entire design swung outward like a door. Pitch stared. The inside of the tree was completely hollow. He leaned forward ever so slightly to peer inside. It was as black as his name and nothing could be seen except—

There was a sudden rush of cold air and Pitch tumbled forward into the hole. "What the—Frost!" he screamed uselessly as he dropped like a brick. For who else would play such a prank?

* * *

When Pitch came to, he found himself in a graveyard. He sat up and looked around, rubbing his head. Where the heck was he? Was there no end to ignominious methods of travel? He looked up and squinted in the glare of the full moon. Wait, full moon? When he'd stepped out from his tunnel, he _distinctly_ remembered that it had been moonless night. How long had he been unconscious?

And how had he gotten here?

Was this another part of the prank by Jack Frost? If it was, then so help him, he was going to strangle the brat, lack of powers or no. Even powerless, Pitch was the Nightmare King and deserved respect!

He glared up at the full moon. "This is all your fault! You and your dumb….Guardians…" He voice trailed off. There was something wrong with the moon. It wasn't…that wasn't the Man in the Moon's Moon Clipper. It was too…yellow and lifeless and haunting.

 _What_ was going on here?

He looked around. "Jack!" he shouted. "You'd better come out here, I am  _done_  playing these stupid games with you!"

Someone tall and thin stepped out from behind a nearby gravestone. "Did someone call my name?"

Pitch whirled around. "Jack! You—!"

Except…that wasn't Jack.

Who was that?

The speaker was literally skeleton-thin. He had no flesh to speak of, and his eyes consisted of two black holes in his skull of a head. Despite that, he still managed to convey a friendly air.

"Who are you?" Pitch demanded. "Where am I?"

"Why, you're on the outskirts of Halloween town!" the figure said. "I am Jack, the Pumpkin King. And who might you be?"

 _The Pumpkin King?_ Pitch had never heard of such a person. He gathered his shadows in and drew himself taller. "I am Pitch Black, the Nightmare King! Surely you know who I am?"

Jack-the-Pumpkin-King looked thoughtful. "No, I'm afraid that I haven't heard of you. But you are coming to live in our town? That's wonderful! Come, you must have a drink with me and tell me all about where you are from!" With two long strides, he grabbed Pitch's arm and began towing him along.

* * *

And so it was that Pitch found himself reluctantly seated in an old misshapen tower, having some strange concoction that looked vaguely like tea (though he was sure that it wasn't) thrust into his hands, and answering a talking skeleton's questions.

His life had gotten way too bizarre lately.

"So, tell me all about which world you came from and how you got here! I do so love learning about new places!"

Pitch stared at the…Jack. "Fine. But only if you tell me what I want to know about this place first."

"Of course, of course!"

So, over the next hour, Pitch listened as Jack the Pumpkin King told him all about the place called Halloween Town ( _how original,_ Pitch thought drolly) and its citizens. Apparently, their only purpose in life was to prepare all year for a single night's work. ( _Sounds just like a few other people whose names don't deserve mention._ )

However, he did find himself wondering, since these people enjoyed fear and terror so much, would any of them consider expanding their roles into something that he could employ? Surely there was someone who wanted to scare more often than once a year. He would just have to find them.

"Tell me, Jack, are there anyone around here who might be looking for hire?"

"Oh, yes, there's always someone looking! What kind of job were you trying to find?"

"No, no, it's not for me,  _I_  want to do the hiring."

Jack was surprised. "But you've only just arrived. You haven't had time yet to set up any kind of trade."

Pitch took a breath to maintain his composure and fought back a headache. If only there were some delicious fears somewhere around, he would feel so much better. But, disappointingly, this place was as fear-free as it could possibly be at the moment. (Wasn't that just his luck?) "No, I want to hire people to come back with me and work with me on other side."

Jack considered for a moment. "Well, I'm afraid that it's doubtful whether anyone would want to leave here for a long-term basis. We're all rather attached to our little town, you see."

Pitch held back a groan. This was a waste of time. He was about to stand when Jack continued. "The only ones that I could think of would Lock, Shock, and Barrel, but they're a rather troublesome pack of pranksters. I don't think you'd want them. They used to work for Oogie Boogie before his…unfortunate demise."

Pitch didn't miss the way Jack's voice hardened. "Oogie Boogie? As in, the Boogeyman?"

Jack's eyes narrowed. "You've heard of him?"

"Where I come from, I  _am_  the Boogeyman. There is none who would not fear me!"

Jack slowly rose from his chair and somehow seemed to tower quite menacingly. "Are you in league with the Boogeyman? Did you come here to try and finish his work, to wreak havoc on our town?"

Pitch half-stumbled back, wishing more than ever for the proper power over his shadows. ( _Why couldn't the wishing fairy pop up now?_ ) "I am the Pitch Black, the Nightmare King, and I am in league with no one!" He stretched his fingers, willing the nightmare sand to appear, but not a speck materialized.

Jack continued to stare him down. "You will leave our town and you will not show your face again!"

And that was how Pitch found himself dumped back on the edge of the graveyard. He threw up his hands. Perfect! Just perfect! A fortuitous chance at gaining allies ruined because apparently Boogeymen pick fights with Jacks no matter what universe they're in!

This was ridiculous! He was going to go home and pace some more.

If he could just figure out how to get there.

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Pitch. He's never gonna catch a break. You gotta admire his persistence though.
> 
> Part 3 will be forthcoming soon!


End file.
